Like the Night
by FutureNobelPrizeForLiterature
Summary: "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes, thus mellowed to that tender light which heaven to gaudy day denies." Attempted suicide, confessed love, a new enemy, arranged marriages... The lot.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: All characters and settings are the property of Jason Rothenberg and Morgan Kass.**

 **Prologue**

Clarke did not stumble.

Clarke did not falter.

Her footsteps rang true and sound as she marched into the wilderness, with no concept of where she was going or when she would get there.

So she marched.

And she marched.

And Camp Jaha faded from view, enveloped by the canopy of leaves. The noise waned as well, the distant din of joy being replaced with the tranquil trill of birds and the humming of insects.

It was then that Clarke stumbled.

It was then that Clarke faltered.

For she knew, no matter how far she marched, she would always hear them. She would always see them. No distance of space or time could save her; no great self-sacrifice could redeem her; and Bellamy did not have the right to forgive her.

Clarke did not falter. She fell.

She fell and she wept. The sun poured down upon her golden head, and the verdant trees released their balmy scent, and the life thousands crawled between the very dirt where she shook. She wept for the children who would never feel the dirt in her hands as she did then; she wept for the mothers who had never turned their faces to the sun; and she wept for those who she had killed, as if her bootless tears could revive them.

But most of all, she wept for herself, for she remembered Lexa's words.

 _"_ _They do not know that what you have done will haunt you for the rest of your days."_

She now knew them to be true, those words that had referred to just one boy. One boy whom she had loved. She had known then when the words were first spoken that she could barely survive under the guilt of his death; she most certainly knew she could not survive the deaths of over 300 people.

 _"_ _The rest of your days."_

And then Clarke knew. She would cheat the very faces that stood not an inch away from her mind, their features twisted in agony. She would join them, whether in oblivion or hell, she did not care. She only wished that the pain would stop, and the molted faces of the children would leave.

She arose from the ground, face set in adamancy.

She fumbled for her gun.

She brought it to her temple.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"If you kill yourself now, I will have failed and I am not permitted to fail my Commander."

Clarke whirled around, but before she could glimpse the speaker, she felt a pain in her leg. She grasped it, and winced as her hand felt the feathered dart.

"For the rest… of my…"

Clarke collapsed and the world fell away.

The disfigured faces of the children did not.

 **Reviews and harsh criticism appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 1: We the Monsters

**Chapter One: We the Monsters**

 **Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to Jason Rothenberg and Kass Morgan.**

Clarke felt warm, comfortable, and relaxed, three things she had not felt in months. She was surrounded by a thick blanket, and she could smell the aromatic wafts of incense as they seeped into her lungs. For a moment of bliss, the tormented faces of the dead were a mere vestige of a far more complicated time. There, in that area between sleep and alertness, that purgatory of the mind, she was content.

Sadly one cannot doze forever.

It was the rustling of fabric that forced Clarke to stir. She lazily opened her eyes and restrained a surprised gasp as she realized where she was.

"I knew you were weak; I did not realize how weak you actually were."

The disgust in Lexa's voice was sharply apparent. Clarke lifted her head and squinted at the commander, bile rising up from the back of her throat as she surveyed the figure. She still wore her war paint, sharply contrasting her eyes; those eyes which displayed such distaste.

"How am I weak now Lexa? Am I weak for caring again?" Clarke snarled, before yanking the blanket off and lunging to her feet, all peace and comfort forgotten.

"There is no greater disgrace than death by one's own hand; it is the epitome of cowardice," Lexa stated simply. Her facial expressions never wavered, but her tone carried so much disapproval that Clarke physically flinched.

"More cowardly than deserting your ally when the enemy was ripe for the taking?" Clarke spat. Lexa merely cocked an eyebrow as she ran her eyes over Clarke's face, as if trying to decipher something.

"Tell me why Clarke. Tell me why you would hunger for death."

"Tell _me_ how I came to be here."

"I assigned numerous spies around Camp Jaha to ensure that you did not launch an attack after our desertion. I feared retaliation, and I told them to keep a special eye on you, lest you stir your people to vengeance," she stated. "I have answered your question, now answer mine; why do you hunger for death?"

"Because I don't deserve to live," Clarke hissed through clinched teeth. She felt tears begin to form at the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them away, staring resolutely at Lexa's face. The commander frowned slightly, but her eyes widened as realization spread across her features.

"You flooded Mount Weather with radiation, didn't you?" she asked, her voice suddenly softening. Clarke's head fell in defeat, as she restrained the racking sobs that began to emanate from her body. Her knees went weak as she fell, once again, onto the dirt of the earth. She felt a hand tenderly touch her shoulder, and she gasped Lexa ran her fingers along the base of her neck.

"I am proud of you Clarke," she sighed, and there was a tint of adoration in her normally monotone voice. It was on that word, _proud_ , that Clarke threw her head up and her eyes practically glowed with rage.

" _Proud?_ Proud, Lexa? You're proud that I murdered over 300 people? You're proud that I killed children?" Clarke's voice did not grow in volume; rather, she became quieter and quieter as she rose from the ground.

"No. No one should ever be proud of death; I am proud that you protected those you love above all others."

"You're sick," Clarke spat, her face mere inches away from the commander's.

"No sicker than you, my friend."

Clarke grunted and shoved Lexa before marching towards the exit.

"I can't let you leave, Griffin of the Sky People."

"Watch me. Lexa of the Traitors."

Clarke threw open the thin fabric separating her from the outside world, only to be barred by a massive, hulking creature. The man grasped her by her shoulders even as she attempted to duck under him.

"Bind her securely," Lexa commanded as Clarke kicked and writhed vigorously. "Were she to kill herself under our supervision, there would be no hope of peace between our two nations."

"I HATE YOU!" Clarke screamed, spit lolling from her mouth as she struggled against the gargantuan man.

Lexa turned and trudged away, her cape billowing behind her, clearly ignoring the Sky Girl.

"DID YOU HEAR ME LEXA? I HATE YOU, YOU MONSTER!"

"We're both monsters Clarke," Lexa called back without deeming to turn her head. "But at least I take pride in it."

And then Clarke wept; she wept in the arms of the strange man, for she knew the commander's words to be true.

She was no better than the woman who had betrayed her.

 **Reviews and harsh criticism appreciated. Shouted out to** **Miketsukami-kun for being my first review!**


	3. Chapter 2: As the World Spun

**Chapter Two: As the World Spun**

 **Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to Jason Rothenberg and Kass Morgan.**

You were stupid to not fear Heda Lexa, whispered mothers to their children as she swirled past, as regally as a queen of old.

You were stupid to question Heda Lexa, murmured fathers to their sons as they eyed the commander, her hand upon her sword.

And you were stupid to believe there was anything underneath that fierce war paint, other than a ruthless leader and killer.

How could the trembling infants and shaking men know, that underneath her steely grey eyes, laid a soul that quivered just as violently as they. They could never know how, and Lexa knew that above all else. She knew she could not always control weakness; she was human, and to be human demands flaw. So she determined to never show it, lest her men lose faith and her own adamancy fade. But as she walked steadily away from the blonde girl, so vulnerable in her tent, the faintest trace of a crack showed on Lexa's marble features.

She had loved once. Fiercely and torridly, oh so torridly… She was by no means good with words, but the poets often said the world stopped when you were in love; Lexa disagreed. The world spun faster and faster when you were in love, pulling you along in its ecstatic, joyous turn, making you giddy with delight. The euphoria was unbearable, until even Lexa's stoic face would break into fits of laughter, and her voice erupt into spontaneous song.

Then the world stopped. So suddenly it threw her off into the cold oblivion of space, leaving her to freeze as the one person she cared about most…

She knew she had loved Costia. But Clarke? She did not know, for the fair haired woman reminded her far too much of herself, and she hated herself more than any man, woman, or thing in Heaven or Hell. Clarke was most certainly beautiful, that she could not deny; and her spirit was strong and powerful, like a violent river. She stood righteous and morally erect in a world that had been left in chaos, and Lexa secretly looked upon her as a beacon of redemption for a society descended into madness.

But love?

Lexa stopped her march, and waited to see if the world moved any faster. It stood perfectly still. What did move was the thump in her chest every time she thought of Clarke's blue eyes, or the tug in her soul when she pictured the Sky Girl's face twisted in rage.

Not the love she had had with Costia; she had needed to protect Costia, and perhaps that was why the world spun. With Clarke, she could be sure of her footing on this ever tilting planet, for she knew her new lover was no weak trinket. They were alike, the two of them, in body and spirit, if perhaps not in mind.

"I love Clarke Griffin," she whispered to the universe. "Not that it matters."

And she continued forward, searching for her generals. After all, there was no longer an unsteady peace between the Skaikru and the Trikru; a treaty would have to be made.

 **Reviews and harsh criticism appreciated. Shout-out to** **Milkinis94** **and soulterror for being my second and third reviews!**


	4. Chapter 3: A Lasting Peace

**Chapter 3: A Lasting Peace**

 **So, as you all might have noticed, I prefer writing diminutive chapters and releasing them in quick succession rather than writing long chapters and taking a week on each one. I hope this writing style doesn't bother any of you, it's just what I find the most effective** **J**

 **Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to Jason Rothenberg and Kass Morgan.**

"We have nothing to fear from the Sky People; their numbers are few and their weapons scattered," a chieftain barked, banging her fist against her chest. Lexa murmured the word " _imbecile"_ as she leaned back in a wooden chair and watched the other figures in the room. A group of generals and chieftains stood in a circle under the canopy of a great deerskin tent, their expressions ranging from rage to fear to worry. The only relaxed figure was that of the Heda, who played absently with a single strand of blonde hair.

"Their weapons can kill a dozen of us within seconds; regardless of their numbers, should they choose to retaliate after our betrayal, our losses would be monstrous," Indra put forth, her mouth twisted in a scowl.

"Then what do you suggest we do? Go to them and beg for forgiveness? They would've betrayed us had they been offered the same deal," muttered one chieftain through his thick beard.

"We have their young leader; she is of some use to us," Indra snapped back.

"How? Use her as a hostage?" Lexa murmured disinterestedly.

"Exactly," Indra affirmed.

"Hmmm… let me think how that would work out…" Lexa replied sharply. "The last time the Sky People thought one of theirs had been taken by us, one man managed to kill 18 men, women, and children. Just imagine how they would retaliate if we openly held her as a bargaining piece." Lexa scoffed before sitting back down in her chair, her face falling back into apathy.

"Commander, we must assure peace. Either by their destruction, their leaving, or their consent. We cannot easily accomplish the first, they will not agree to the second, so we must find a way to force the third," Indra begged, turning to her commander. "What do you suggest?"

Lexa sighed, and clutched the strand of gold in her hand.

"You all know the obvious answer, but none of you are willing utter it for fear of repercussions," she replied curtly, surveying the many cautious faces. "A mating ceremony, between me and a high ranking member of the Sky People, to ensure no further betrayals or attacks."

Many heads dropped in shame as Lexa had merely stated what every general, chieftain, and captain knew to be true. _Blood must have blood._ The only way to ensure peace would be to have a mixing of the blood lines, thus blurring the demarcation between Trikru and Skaikru.

"And the obvious choice would be Clarke Griffin," she stated in such a monotone method that a person who did not speak Trigedasleng would've assumed she was describing the weather. "Their leader… your leader… forever bound, forever forced to maintain peace."

"Commander, no one can force you to do such a task; but yes, a mating ceremony of high ranking officials would ensure lasting peace," Indra whispered the sentence as if it were a prayer.

"Would they agree to it?" called another chieftain.

"They have no choice; we outnumber them one hundred to one. We seek this alliance not because we fear losing; we seek it because we fear our losses."

"I will go and negotiate the terms of the mating ceremony tomorrow," Lexa blurted out, jumping to stand as erect as a pine tree. "As you all say, it is the best course of action."

The other leaders stared in utter shock, attempting to comprehend the sheer eagerness of their Heda.

"Commander… are you quite sure?" Indra tentatively put forth.

"Of course; I put my people above all else, and would not dare to jeopardize them." Now the world spun as Lexa saw all she wanted to be put into place. Assured peace with the Sky People, the safety of her people, the woman she loved in her arms…

She knew the Sky People would agree to it; their hands were tied. But would Clarke? Clarke who had been prepared to end her own life not but a day before… Clarke who showed such distain for her.

"Not tomorrow," she said suddenly. "Today. I will meet with Abigail Clarke today, and Clarke Griffin will be mated to me by the morrow."

 **Reviews and harsh criticism appreciated!**


	5. Chapter 4: The Silence in Between

**Chapter 4: The Silence in Between**

 **Disclaimer: All characters and settings belong to Jason Rothenberg and Kass Morgan.**

 **So I just wanted to clarify some things before I continue; the mating ceremony will be based on the traditional American wedding, as after all, this is America just 94 years after radioactive fallout. As such, it'll be similar, but with a couple little twists.**

 **Also, this may need to be updated to M in later chapters. We'll see.**

Clarke hyperventilated, trying to sooth her nerves and order her mind. Apparently it had been one of Lexa's guards who had stopped her from killing herself, and for that she was entirely grateful.

Because now she wanted to kill Lexa before she offed herself.

 _Why is she protecting me from myself?_ She thought vehemently. _Why can't she just let me die in peace…?_ Of course Clarke knew the answer to both of those questions. Lexa, very probably, still "cared" for Clarke. _Well,_ she scoffed. _If Lexa's version of caring is to abandon my people to die and then kidnap me, I hate this woman more than I thought. God, I can't believe I almost liked her for a little while._

Suddenly, the tent flap flew open, and Clarke snarled as the hulking man lurched back in.

"What are you doing here?" Clarke sneered as the guard made his way to the blonde girl.

"Taking you home. Heda's orders," he grunted.

"Well, at least she has some type of human decency," Clarke muttered. The man smirked and lifted her over his shoulder, her feet and hands still bound. "What the hell… untie me!" Clarke squirmed uselessly as the man chuckled.

"You will wish you had let me go once we reach Camp Jaha," Clarke posed the empty threat.

"Believe me little Skai Heda; once we reach Camp Jaha, you'll wish you'd have finished the job you started in the forest," the man let out a roaring laugh and squeezed Clarke harshly.

Clarke was placed into a wooden cage, with a floor that was decorated with soft furs and a pitcher of water stood in the corner of the prison. It was remarkably comfortable for a cell. She settled down, too tired to fight against the wooden bars. She was too fired to fight against anything.

She curled up in a ball and buried her face in the clean furs, refusing to acknowledge the predicament she was in. she didn't care what happened at this point; she didn't care if Lexa killed her, or what Lexa wanted with her.

 _She's sick and twisted,_ Clarke thought bitterly. _She forced me to become a murder of children, and now she won't let me end my own pain. I'll take her with me before I take myself._

"I swear on the blood of the 300 grounders I burned, the 250 Trikru warriors I allowed to be destroyed, and the 350 Mountain Men I killed, that I will take one more life before I die," Clarke whispered to the universe. "And that life will be Lexa's."

The sound of crunching foliage brought Clarke out of her reverie. She raised her head as four grounder men came towards her prison. Each of the four went to a separate corner of the cage and lifted it expertly onto their shoulders.

"Where are you taking me?" Clarke growled as the men began to move forward.

"To your mother, Klark kom Skaikru." Lexa's irritating voice forced Clarke's teeth to grind against each other. The Heda trotted up next to the cage atop a horse. "I will return you to your people and offer them a second truce to ensure peace."

"Another promise you'll break, I assume," Clarke sneered. Lexa's face remained motionless.

"No. The measures I will take shall ensure that neither of our people shall ever betray the other. Nor…" Lexa lipped her lips, "will their leaders of our clans ever be forced to choose between what they feel, and what they know is right for their people." And then the great commander's face wavered. Something akin to sadness and regret darted across her features, and Clarke saw it out of the corner of her eye.

She didn't care.

"What measures will you take?" she said as apathetically as possible.

"A political marriage between two high ranking officials."

"My poor mom," Clarke scoffed. "Or Kane. Who's the lucky grounder? Indra?"

"No. I shall unite myself with one of your leaders," Lexa stared stoically ahead.

Clarke raised one eyebrow in mild interest, momentarily forgetting her one objective was to kill this woman before then killing herself.

"You and… my mom…"

"No, Clarke. I will not request Abigail Griffin to be my mate."

"Then who else? There are no other high ranking officials that you could possibly…" Clarke stopped, her face frozen in horror as she realized exactly what Lexa intended to do. "You can't mean… there's no way…"

Lexa turned her head elegantly and nodded.

Clarke let out a something between a sob and a shriek.

"I would rather kill all those children ten times over than _ever_ ," she hissed, " _ever_ be married to you."

Lexa did not flinch.

"We shall see. If you and your leaders do not consent, I will force you out of Trikru land and into the desert. I cannot have such a large force with advanced weapons so close to the men and women I am sworn to protect." There was no inflection, no waving in the commander's voice and Clarke knew her words to be true.

For she knew Lexa to be cruel.

"You're insane if you think I'll agree to that."

"You'd be insane not to," Lexa countered, the tiniest bit of a smirk reaching her lips. She, Abby Griffin, and Marcus Kane stood in a semicircle just outside of Camp Jaha, surrounded by numerous warriors, all eyeing the opposite side warily. She had informed Abigail that they had found Clarke in the midst of a suicide attempt, and she had laid out the terms of the marriage quite clearly.

No ransom, no bargain, no contract. The leader of one clan uniting with the leader of another, forming an eternal bond that would ensure peace. She was honestly surprised that Griffin hadn't already conceded.

"Why would we ever agree to a marriage when you were the ones who abandoned us to die?" Marcus muttered darkly.

"I did not abandon you. I abandoned the 47 who remained inside the mountain. I wagered that the lives of hundreds of my men was not worth the lives of 47 strangers. And as for why would you agree; why would I agree to an alliance with you when you killed 300 of my men?" Lexa's voice was always monotonous in quality, but even she could not keep the distain out of her voice. "Do not, for one second, entertain the idea that I am doing this because I want to," the Heda spat. "I am doing this to ensure another 300 do not die." She raised her head and sneered slightly as Abigail and Marcus exchanged glances.

"I'd like to see Clarke and hear what she has to say. I will not force my daughter to do something so repulsing."

Marcus winced as all attempt at tact and diplomacy was thrown away, and the word 'repulsing' resonated around the circle. The grounders bristled with rage as they furiously grabbed their sheathed weapons, snarling at Abby Griffin who stood defiantly upright.

"Watch your words, leader kom Skai Kru," Lexa spat. "I am offering the chance at a long and unbreakable peace for no cost to your nation. I will give you till sundown to decide. If you say no, I will return Clarke to you unscathed. But you will then have one remaining day to leave Trikru land. I cannot risk having a liability so close to one of my clans."

Abby stiffened as she realized the magnitude of Lexa's words, and Marcus put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"We must discuss this with Clarke before we can make any decision," he said calmly and evenly, but his hand squeezed Abby's shoulder so hard she feared it would bruise.

Lexa nodded her consent, turned, and shouted something in Trigedasleng. Moments later, four grounders came forward, carrying between them a large, luxurious cage.

"CLARKE!" Abigail let out a strangled cry as she recognized the blonde girl.

"Mom!" Clarke grabbed the bars of the wooden prison to stop herself from shaking.

"Release her," Lexa snapped, and the four men lowered the girl to the ground before ripping open the cage door. Clarke stumbled forward, tripping into the dirt before scrambling towards her mother.

"I give you till sundown to make your decision," Lexa nodded. "If you do not consent to the union I will be forced to take drastic measures."

Clarke didn't hear Lexa's words. She dug her face into the crook of her mother's shoulder and cried. Cried as hard as she had cried the day she had killed the Mountain Men. For now she had to make a similar choice.

Save her people, and damn herself.

Or damn herself, and save her people.

 **Reviews and harsh criticism appreciated.**


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